oracl

writer, artist, indigo.

My Experience of Enlightenment: Part II

Last year, I wrote a blog post about having what people generally think of as a ‘peak’ or ‘enlightenment’ experience in the summer. I didn’t explain in enough detail at the time, was far too enthralled with what was happening to go that deep into it. It was the most incredible shift in consciousness I have ever experienced, one of the highlights of my life thus far. I don’t think words will ever do it justice, but I can try.

Long story short: I lost my personal sense of self. I lost the identification with ‘I’…with the thing that makes Coral, Coral. I lost my sense of being an individual person, a ‘self’ and instead was filled with the most extraordinary emptiness. There was no spoon. There was no ‘I’…..I was thinking about myself in the third person, as if ‘Coral’ was a someone I could talk about as being something other than me……it was like something came out of nowhere and took my ENTIRE OS X out. The thing is, the onset happened within seconds….I was sitting on the bathroom floor. Feeling kind of sad and depressed. I’d been reading some lady online, a blogger with a fascinating perspective on the mind and on what is called the ‘false self’. According to this woman, there are a million methods to reach pure presence out there, but hers is the fastest way: a programmers shortcut for the human mind. The main thing she tells you to do is realize that whenever you feel negative or unwanted thoughts or emotions, they’re not true. The person feeling it is your false self. The true self doesn’t create problems or issues. The true self exists in a heaven like state of peaceful abundance in every way. For the true self, life is fucking wonderful and every moment is full of clarity and pure creative potential. The false self exists within duality. It’s the false self that believes the signals that come from painful thoughts and emotions, which are apparently just reactions to this illusion we have temporarily projected ourselves into. When the true self takes its power back by not believing the emotional signals from the false self, your external reality changes all around you like magic. You find ‘heaven’ again, she says….within you. You stop manifesting issues or problems and start externally manifesting paradise around you instead. Life just works.

Yes, you just read that. It sounds mad weird, right? I couldn’t wrap my head around it at first, such a peculiar ideology it was. But something in me was sensing something to it, so I kept with it and started using these new tools as part of my healing journey. If we truly ‘create our realities’, then doesn’t it almost make sense that we should legit have that much personal power? We throw that cliché around in spiritual circles all the time, but here was this woman telling me ‘you can ACTUALLY do that.’ It seemed unbelievable. But I’d experienced a great deal of trauma in my life, which was still reverberating through me, disallowing the internal liberation I so deeply desired. So I figured, why not try this? I started to sit with my negative thoughts and emotional reactions and tell myself they aren’t true, and the situations that spurred them aren’t real. Not in an abstract way but literally, as explained on the website…. Sounds crazy, right? I know.

Anyway: back we go to the bathroom floor:

I am sitting there, worrying, ruminating as we are all apt to do. By now, I had been practicing this new technique for a few weeks, and strangely, it did improve various situations in my life. It wasn’t easy at first, you have to suspend disbelief in consensus/apparent *reality* in a way and to an extent that is hard for any normally socialized person. You have to get a certain level of mastery over your mind to end up like I did when the ‘moment’ happened. She said it’d get easier and it did. I keep at this thing for a few weeks: every thought or emotion I have that hurts, I immediately remind myself it is a false reaction to an unreal situation. In a way its like you’re hacking your own mind….you ‘over ride’ consensus reality, the ‘apparent’ reality, reaching from a place beyond it: the true self. I’m sitting there a few weeks in. Feeling shitty, worrying about this and that, monkey brain chattering. I do the practice and tell myself that the thoughts/pain are unreal, and I search for the ‘false underlying belief’ installed in my mind, which generated the thoughts, and pull it out. *click*…delete. So Im sitting there..

Then all of a sudden……all my thoughts disintegrated into absolute nothingness.

All thought stopped. I became completely quiet inside. All the thoughts just stopped. Complete and utter silence. I remember sitting there on the floor in mild shock, wondering why I couldn’t think anymore. The most I could do was eek one or two words out before the words LITERALLY disintegrated, like dust in the air, like the end of a spliff that should’ve been ashed two passes ago. I know thoughts are not physical in the normal sense but this is the only way I can describe what it felt like. Every attempt to think ended promptly in the same way, so I eventually stopped trying and got off the floor, succumbing to the immense silence in my head. After a few minutes, ‘I’ stopped existing. I’m going to try my best to explain this….but I don’t know if I can.

Imagine there is a ball of energy inside your body that is ‘you’ and that your physical body is what this ball of energy is currently wearing. Usually we identify with the physical body: it has a name, it has a past and memories, it’s gone through experiences. We see ourselves AS selves, and come to identify with the body suit, not the ball of energy/light we really are. Our body suits have alllllll these labels on them and we think they are who we are. When my sense of self dissolved, that died.

My perspective was no longer personal but became impersonal. I was a ball of energy that had become aware of being in a body suit, and was experiencing reality from that perspective instead of the normal one.

Imagine again, that that ball of energy inside you, that makes you YOU and animates the character you are playing, is made of the same stuff that every other physical thing is made of. In fact, EVERYTHING that exists is made up of the stuff in the ball of energy that your body is wearing. Now, imagine that all of a sudden, your identification with the body suit just falls away, just dies. You would feel yourself to be the big ball of energy you are, which everything is. Right? You would actually feel like a floaty ass ‘spirit’ instead of a dense, earthbound ‘body’, right?

Wrong. I felt completely EMPTY . No-thing. There was just a void. That ball of energy I had you thinking about, is not a ‘thing’….. It doesn’t exist in the way our human physical brains think of ‘things that exist’. It is the consciousness which precedes and produces the illusion of all ‘things’……but it is not a ‘thing’, itself. So when my ‘human Coral’ conditioned perspective dropped, there was no-thing left. I felt like…a shell honestly. All that was left was awareness, consciousness itself. Pure awareness, while in a human body. Unmediated by thought. No spoon.

When you think about yourself, you probably think about ‘you’ in a personal way. You have a name, likes and dislikes, this and that. You think about ‘you’, who ‘you’ are. I literally lost my ability to think of myself as an ‘I’…..imagine that you can no longer refer to yourself as ‘you’ because there is no ‘you’ to refer to, you are just consciousness wearing a body? I couldn’t even generate self referential thoughts or any thoughts at all, really….they. fizzled. up. They turned into smoke and blew away into nothing, and I immediately returned to an endless calm ocean of peace and stillness inside. Over and over til I gave in and stopped trying.

The first few days were honestly kinda scary as much as they were incredible, I’m not going to lie. Going through this is not something anything prepares you for. It’s kind of frustrating to not be able to think. I also couldn’t feel emotions anymore, only deep feelings from deeeeep inside, like joy or bliss or peace, feelings that are at the soul level, not the human emotional level, not attached to anything external like human emotions are. It can feel kind of weird and boring and ‘flat’ to be like this, so fucking calm and peaceful and still, all the time. I kind of missed the contrast, the richness of varied experience provided by the illusion of the separate ‘self’…..ironic for a hardcore spiritual seeker/trauma survivor, huh 😉 But honestly it was such a drastic mental/emotional shift that at certain moments I was afraid…….It’s a lot to get used to especially if you are used to a racing thoughts and overthinking, like most of us are. To go from mental chaos/emotional turbulence to completely fucking quiet with absolutely no emotional ups and downs? It was beautiful and profound but it was also a lot. I felt I understood why monks stayed away and lived on the outskirts of society. Once you see through the illusion of you, you see through the entire illusion…and living in a world of people under the spell of that illusion gets a little wonky….you can’t really relate because your entire vantage point is different. You don’t make sense to them if you try to explain, because there is no ‘you’…..When I left this state I was actually kind of grateful to be ‘back’…I wasn’t ready yet, to let myself die for good. I will admit that the hardest part of going through this was not being around anyone who really understood. I know I worried my loved ones a bit, because I was trying to explain things from this new perspective that just doesn’t make sense from the normal ‘I’, self perspective.

Nonetheless, I knew I had to come back. My partner knows ‘Coral’ as coral…. there are friends and family and a career to attend to, so I need to play/really inhabit the role of Coral to spend my time on Earth in the most meaningful way and accomplish my purpose. The personal relationships ‘Coral’ has built here mean more to me than transcendence……found all this out later tho.

Moving on. The next thing that happened was the laughter. This is probably my favorite part of the experience. I was observing my mind, as I realized the illusory nature of the character it created to fuck around in time and space, currently called ‘Coral’ in this incarnation. I knew, not felt but knew, that ‘Coral’ is an illusion, a bunch of ideas and experiences, but my true nature is so much more than that. And I burst out laughing like I heard the funniest joke there ever was. I was DYING laughing at how ridiculous this ‘pretending to be a separate entity from all that is’ business was. It suddenly became so fucking funny to me, I felt I had been hoodwinked or something. Gut clenching belly laughter, wondering wow, what the fuck? This is the point? I did this to myself, and all is well and always has been and cant not be, and I really thought I was a ‘self’, and I believed other people were ‘selves’ too, and we are all just starring in one big ratchet ass movie/holographic projection that seems like a huge fucking deal but its actually not because its not who we really are AT ALL. Like, it is, but it ISNT. I was like omg this is such a joke, forreal tho? (Mystics reading this probably know about the whole ‘cosmic joke’ thing…that’s what happened to me! I had read about people’s enlightenment experiences before it happened…so it was nuts to actually experience all the shit I read about first hand.)

I cannot describe how deep this laughter was, it took over my entire body as a sense of joy and lightness washed over me. I truly felt like I remembered what I really am and I was in a constant state of amazement at beholding my ‘true self’, the emptiness, the nothingness, the undivided connection to all that is which composes the true ‘I’, of which there is only ONE and has always been only One….I felt this oneness but not filtered thru the human intellect. I actually inhabited/experienced it and that shit is wiiiiiiillllllldddddd! I couldn’t look at anyone or anything without seeing ‘me’ in it, everything was made up of the stuff that makes up me.

The next thing was the BLISS.

omfg guys. The bliss…..how do I begin…..I was sitting around alone at my friend Alettas apartment in D.C. still in this state of emptiness/complete quiet/void/no-self, when all of a sudden, something erupted in me like a non physical volcano. I became aware of the God that I am but at a visceral, immediate level. I felt my life force and that force was an explosion of love. It was like a spiritual orgasm or something, lol.

It really felt like two stars collided, or like a hurricane. It sprang up inside my chest cavity and traveled through my body, this unspeakable LOVE AND PURE BLISS. Man, how to describe it? Unlike anything I had ever experienced, happiness more powerful than anything before it, joy times 100, I was exploding in quiet internal ecstasy out of nowhere! All I could do was sit there and experience it! It’s as if it wasn’t even contained in my body. Its as if the whole universe is made of this love and I was experiencing it without the filter of a human ‘I’ consciousness. I was experiencing myself AS that love. ‘Swimming in a vat of love’ I called it, in my first post, which was a more raw, initial description of what happened to me

(link to that: https://coralthinkstoomuch.wordpress.com/2016/09/30/its-happening/)

A few days later I got on a bus to leave DC and head home and something fascinating happened. My physical body developed a headache, nothing out of the ordinary…but I wasn’t suffering. I felt pain/pressure, but I wasn’t….suffering…it just was and therefore I was able to ignore it…..this is the one thing I truly do not know howww to explain, lol. Barely understand it myself.

When I got off my greyhound bus, it was raining outside. I stared down at my body in pure amazement, thinking omfg, im really in this bitch! Like wow I’m actually down here running around in this beautiful flesh machine, what?? What a MIRACLE it felt like! I remember being outside in the drizzle and suddenly being like OMFG this shit is sooooooooooooooo fucking cool! It felt like having a human body was literally THE place to be in the universe. I felt so incredibly lucky to be here. It was how a child feels, the pure joy of simply being here, being in a human body, able to run, touch, laugh and play. Instead of feeling good because something external made me feel good, simply BEING felt so, soooo good.

Truly incredible moment. I have not felt joy like it since, not even remotely! Mind boggling…I had to stop myself from running around in the rain, dancing and playing, lol.

After about a week and half, ‘Coral’ came back and settled back down into her body/identity. My stretch of ‘enlightenment’ was over. I haven’t been back in that state of consciousness since. I actually do not think enlightenment is the real goal for humans….after all that, I came to understand that spiritual seeking on earth at this time has to be grounded into social reality, not transcended individually. Its cool for an individual to seek these states of being, and I learned soooooo much, and will never regret it, but I came to realize that we came here not to die to ourselves but to give birth to our human-God selves, which are no less beautiful than the oneness I felt, but are actually a sort of ‘God 2.0’….a more complex, advanced form of oneness that manifests through relationships down here in the physical dimensions. Yes, separation from Source and having ‘I’ consciousness causes suffering, but its also so FUN having/being an individual self. It’s so interesting, there is so much depth and contrast and beauty in the experience of this illusion that cannot exist in the ethereal lightness of the God-self/no self/original oneness….. I now believe we are here, first, to experience the illusion in all its uglyness/glory, so that we can learn contrast from the inside out and have ‘experiences’ at all and ‘learn and grow’ at a soul level. Then, at a certain level of soul evolution (old souls) I believe we are supposed to make contact with the bliss, joy and calm of the internal heaven I visited and bring it down to earth through what? Through self expression! Through creating in whatever form your creation takes. Through loving ourselves and each other because we ARE all love, literally. I also believe that we are meant to to cocreate the heavenly state down here, on Earth, in the physical realm, together. That way we get the best of both worlds: the paradise, freedom and and transcendence of the ethereal realms, but also the groundedness, realness, sexiness and intensity of life in a physical body. More on all this soon. God 2.0…..I think Source loves and appreciates us soooo much for being the vehicles/living expresssion of her expansion ❤

Thanks for reading and feel free to share your own peak/meditative/enlightenment experience with me!

impermanence/fragility

coral hospital.jpg

At one point during an unexpected, serious medical emergency earlier this month, I genuinely thought I was dying. This is the story + a tiny reflection on physicality + impermanence + love. 

We wake up and cuddle and pull on clothes, then smoke with M in his Bedstuy apartment, where we are staying for a few days. J unties the black hematite cross necklace I had been wearing like a choker since he bought it for me, three months ago. It needs to be cleansed.

We leave it on the table, exit the apartment and walk hand in hand to a Soul Food restaurant he found on yelp, one block away. I’m happy to arrive at the front door, respite from the cold March winds outside. There are no seats, just a service partition and a thin ledge to the left. The menu is long, detailed. J studies it; the lines on his forehead creasing in a familiar way as he scans the shiny black paper with too many options on either side.

(Less than one hour later, I am traveling through the door again, this time, to go. The only difference is that this time, I am near unconscious, in unbearable pain, in a wheelchair: being hauled out of the store where an ambulance awaits on the street. )

I stand beside him, considering what to order, feeling tired and spacey, but writing it off as a result of smoking. My eyelids begin to feel heavy, the joints in my legs suddenly weary and annoyed with the laborious act of standing. A minute later, I am dizzy. Standing starts to really feel like a lot. I tell my love, who is still focused on the menu, that I need to sit down, and I make my way to the ledge, which is just wide enough for small butts to perch comfortably.

Relieved, my legs relax into the ground. The dizziness only increases. Then, all of a sudden, nausea. I begin to start slipping out of present awareness and into the increasingly worrying sensations that are only beginning to overwhelm my body. I am very dizzy now, and not thinking about the menu anymore. At this moment, I begin to realize that there is something strange happening to me, in me.

Then, the nausea increases, and I begin to sway, ever so slightly, the beginning of losing consciousness which would soon rapidly progress. J comes over to check on me, and around then, my body temperature starts rising. Within two minutes, my body is extremely hot, to the touch, I can feel the heat emanating from my skin. I look up at him. Baby I don’t feel well. At this point, things begin to get blurry. I am burning up and in a state of mental confusion, but not in super visible distress, yet.

He goes back to the counter to put in orders and my dizziness gets worse. I lean over onto the wall, this is the beginning of my body no longer being able to hold itself up. At this point, I begin to feel my consciousness slipping away. But very slowly at first. Confused, since I’d been fine five minutes before, I tell him ‘J, there’s something wrong. Something is really wrong right now.’

The women in the store begin to notice but say nothing.

Then, I start having trouble breathing. I cannot seem to get enough air into my lungs. I am not gasping for breath, just aware that my breathing isn’t working how its supposed to anymore. It is slow, labored, heavy, uneven, obstructed. Now I am terrified. J says something along the lines of ‘lets go home, its so close, we can leave now honey’ and at that point I have to tell him to call an ambulance because I am not OK. The realization of the extent of what is happening sinks in for both of us. I don’t remember if he called or if someone else did. I lose more consciousness and begin to go ‘in and out’ of awareness.

Then the abdominal pain kicks in, and I lose more consciousness and begin to fall over, slumping into J who is suddenly having to ‘catch’ me. This is where it gets hard to detail, because I was coming in and out of responsiveness. In one moment I am in darkness, in the next I open my eyes, although unable to speak or respond, and I realize that my boyfriend is holding my head and neck up with his hands, saying things like stay me with coral, stay with me please, asking if any of the women at the store have any experience because his girlfriend is having a medical emergency. One kind hearted stranger steps up and helps him, because I am really passing out now and will fall to the ground without support. The pain in my intestines and abdomen is becoming acute now.

In and out, in and out, hearing people’s voices as if they are far away. I come to, then become non responsive again.

It is at this point that I start to believe I am possibly dying. In the muted corridors of unconsciousness, I ask God to let me live. I want to live. It almost feels like something is trying to kill me and I am begging it not to. Why am I shutting down, why is my body failing me right now, I ask, when cognizant. In and out, curled over in pain one second and almost slipping to the floor in another. I groan with pain when I come ‘out’ of faint mode, feeling as if I’ve been poisoned.

I had never faced the sheer terror of a physical experience so extreme, with so many body systems seeming to malfunction at once, all within minutes of each other, after feeling perfectly normal right before. I had never experienced a medical emergency so sudden or profound, had never had to cope with such a loss of bodily control, with the stunningly real possibilities that I knew could come from not being able to breathe or passing out over and over again. People with serious long term illness, who go through things like this….dear god, I fucking salute you. You are so strong and impossibly brave, and I only got a glimpse of your struggle.  

Suddenly, the pain gets so bad that I realize I will actually shit myself in the next few minutes if I don’t get to a bathroom. My bowels start preparing themselves for movement, and I can’t really control it, to my horror. The physical need to go is what wakes me up enough to stumble, person on either side of me, to the bathroom, groaning on the toilet in horrible, inexplicable pain. Afterword, I cannot stand. I fall off the bowl onto the bathroom floor, writhing, still in and out. The EMTs arrive and put me in a wheelchair, roll me out of the restaurant and into the ambulance, and lift me from the chair to the gurney. My guts are still aching, but already I am just beginning to return to more awareness, aided by an oxygen mask, the harshness of the cold, and the rumble of being in a moving vehicle. By the time we arrive at the hospital, the worst of it is over, but I am still so out of it, exhausted, confused, sore, scared. J is by my side, holding my hand and letting me know its OK. He was my hero through it all, even though I later realized he was deeply shaken as well, especially in the moments when my eyes were open, but blank, like a dead persons would be. He hid it to care for me.

After four hours and simple tests, all the doctors told us is that I experienced syncope, a fancy word for fainting but not immediately, a more complex and gradual loss of consciousness. He didn’t have answers for the sudden fever,  the nausea, the breathing issue, the abdominal pain and bowel cramping. We were just ready to go, and were relieved to be released. I have a clean bill of health from the blood tests.

And now, sitting here writing this a week before my twenty fifth birthday, which I am grateful I’ll be able to enjoy, I briefly reflect. I am thinking a lot about the impermanence of our bodies, the dangerousness of life, incarnate. To be physical, to be human, is so terrifyingly vulnerable. When I think about our bodies from a soul perspective, it’s almost frightening, how the vast expanses we truly are, are confined to these flesh things, which respond with pain to anything that threatens their homeostasis. We’re so soft and our bodies are these unique, fussy little ecosystems, so sensitive and susceptible to external things that puncture or poison, to hard things, to wires crossing, to any myriad of things going wrong inside of them or outside of them. We’re eternal beings, who are so fucking breakable.

There is something so horrible, and so stunningly beautiful about it. Without these bodies, without your softness, how would you experience the vulnerability, the profundity in cuddling with someone so closely that your two hearts start beating in unison through two chests?

Our skin has to be thin enough to feel anothers heart pounding. Perhaps our deep knowing of the possibility and eventual inevitability of our hearts stopping gives each beat endless depth and meaning it couldn’t have otherwise.

-c

(ps, im doing fine now.)

 

 

Fly Me to Mars

gorgeous/resonant.

babe in botland

I spent my first seventeen years in this country as a Resident Alien. In these politically correct times such language is now frowned upon, but the truth is that it is by far the most accurate description of my experience living in this country as a dark skinned black woman – alien and alienating. Especially over the course of the last year.

I say frequently, to the chagrin of white and black Americans alike, that I am profoundly grateful and relieved that I was not born and raised in this country.

And I am.

I am grateful every single day that I was born and raised and educated in the so-called “third world”.

I am grateful that I had the experience of just being a child. Of people expecting me to be brilliant, and not being surprised when I fulfilled their expectations.

I am grateful that I had an experience of…

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On club scenes: weird vibes, superficiality, and other things I’ve observed as a dj in NYC.

My homie KALA (Jaryd, a member of my crew #KUNQ) wrote this Facebook status a few days ago:

“Every month I lose interest in what the club scene has become. More and more of superficial vibes, throwing shade, and being rude & fake AF. But then I hear “Stop Oppression and POC need to unite” when individuals keep dividing themselves up.
P.S.
It isnt everybody and the music still bumps.”

83 people liked it, a great deal of them people I know or know of, who are part of said club scenes, which I found fascinating. If so many people feel the exact same way, then who is engaging in this behavior? My idea is that it’s not a majority, but a handful of people who rise to positions of power/relevance/visibility, creating this negative vibration with their insecurities, egos, and need for interpersonal dominance and control, which then spill over into the space, like a well dressed, shady squid spewing ink into the water around them. Some of these people hide it from their friends/squad, so that only people outside of the group experience said behavior, and there is no inbuilt mechanism to check or challenge it. I wrote the following comment below, but then deleted it, because I am a pariah in scenes and I often feel like my observations are almost…too real. Socially dangerous for me to expose them freely although, to be fair, I’m already an outcast and the majority of these people don’t give two fucks what I do or say, anyway :D…. So here it is:

Over years its started to seem like lotsa club scenes in major cities in general are outgrowths of capitalism, based around consumption and a profit motive, largely made possible by white men who own venues, breeding grounds for pathological escapism/superficial meaningfulness, rife with social gatekeeping and stratification especially among already marginalized/displaced people using it for a sense of identity/personal relevance instead of allowing a stable, internal sense of self to create a positive/healing external reality at the club….some scenes often seem to me, to be attempts to fill voids that genuine community should fill, unless, of course, you are in the clique/in-group that runs it. (And even within those…there is infighting.) The vibration be off af sometimes. I can tell when someone else is feeling it too because I can sense the same anxiety in them, through a chat or a brief glance across the room.We’ve probably had one or a few of those moments IRL, lol. Plus, since more underground scenes are not bolstered by the big corporate engines that back, say, EDM, this forces the need for competition so that you can rise in relevance over the next person and get booked more/payed more…the rent in NYC is high as hell. Things become about turnout, about having people with mad social media followers and the right look/aesthetic on the lineup, about selling tickets and overpriced mixed drinks, about getting all the *right* press acknowledgement, about being trendy and cool and exclusive. At so many parties I have noticed people standing around, clearly judging people they are not there with, refusing to interact with anyone outside of their group,  talking shit while smoking cigarettes in corners, making sure they take perfect selfies for the gram with the right people. I sense what is going on in a space, to an extreme degree. This is why, in my younger days, I had to get wasted to even be comfortable in these spaces, otherwise my awareness would manifest as severe, painful anxiety in my body, which was trying to scream NO to all the posturing and hiding, NO to the not love and not community and not friendliness it was encountering, often under the guise of being an empowering/non normative space….(see why I didn’t post my comment on his status? Lol. I’m too much.)

Also, in our postmodern western society on the brink of transformation/collapse, i’m not sure anymore if my efforts in nightlife have really been useful/healing/revolutionary in any meaningful way. I have way, wayyy too many stories, its sad, and you know i’m a genuinely kindhearted person since we met, and i know that about you as well….(def more closed off now but safer that way)…..I have had panic attacks due to shade so cold, unexpected and unwarranted all i could do in that moment was sit by myself on the bench at trans pecos wondering why Im even there at all, thinking of all the energy i probably wasted wearing my heart on my sleeve in these environments…..that said, i find it so interesting, this disappointing shared experience/perspective we both have, which many other commenters and likers seem to have resonated with, despite the intense absence of this dialogue on social media.. overall im not judging, these are just observations. its totally NOT everyone and there are good and bad sides to all things. but thank u again for speaking up, not everyone can or will. grateful to have been given a space to reflect/express about this.

I will speak more on this soon, and maybe even tell a few stories.

Authenticity

This was a comment I wrote on a blog written by my favorite spiritual teacher, Teal Swan, back in 2014.

https://tealswan.com/teals-blog/to-hell-with-the-facade

Just stumbled upon it while looking through old emails. First, a quote from the blog post, then my response:

“It does not serve me to let fear bury the truth of who I am when I am in the public eye.  This is a new age that we are living in.  A time when people will come into a knowing of their own god-hood.  Conformity to an ideal, no longer serves us.  It cooks us in the furnace of self-suppression.  And I have decided that even if it kills me, I am going to lead this shift by example; knowing that when I expose myself, I give people permission to be where they are without making them wrong, unlovable or bad for it.”

-Teal Swan

Looking back, this is really beautiful to read. Personal authenticity in one person that becomes visible to millions can be more powerful than the ongoing work of a million activists doing concrete things to bring about change. The bane of modern existence, the spiritual void we feel, is related to our inability to be truly present with ourselves and our feelings. The entire matrix program of control is based upon our collective lack of integration of our shadows. the “normal” psychological profile is so strange to me. as a teen i remember thinking wow everything is fake and most people are too, then being told i have ‘social anxiety disorder’ and spending years clawing my way back to the truth. my perception has since matured but to some extent i was right. its all this repressed pain causing the world to be so full of suffering. (i think we have incredible courage, strength and bravery that is hard for the world to even comprehend at this point, but that seems to be changing quickly) but yeah…i look around and my heart hears the world SCREAMING for realness! for truth, for what really is, for whats beyond the damn facade, for that which proceeds construction or conditioning by external forces with an agenda. you demonstrate something so profound and i understand the pain it causes to go through willingly triggering yourself like that for the good of others. I remember when I decided that it was the utmost authenticity or nothing. I just saw through the bullshit so hard that I couldn’t be unreal anymore, it disgusted me and i wanted more from myself, i was being motivated and assisted by a higher purpose that had little use for my socially programmed fear response to my own true raw divine self or my fear of peoples reactions to it. regardless, the fear and shame it triggered and continues to trigger is real. better than before though. I used to have panic attacks after blog posts in which I spoke in my inherently honest and self revealing way. i have lost friends by being myself and people often don’t know what to do with me, the more i let the real me out. however, regardless of that, I grow in self love and self respect, my creativity expands exponentially in leaps and bounds and I care less and less about being accepted for being someone I am not. but you know what the most amazing thing about it is? once i really started doing authenticity as a hardcore spiritual practice (i think we started focusing on it at the same time) but yeah once i really started taking it seriously and holding myself to it, I began to…be a sort of *channel* for wisdom i didn’t even fully understand the source of…..i began to write words that *touched* people in places they forgot they ever had, a long long time ago. i began to *wake* people out of their slumber with the power behind my words. i began to attract people that could only stand in silence after I spoke that truth and gently beckoned theirs out from the places they had stuffed it in order to survive and fit in….people would randomly open up to me from such a deep and beautifully real place and I was able to catalyze intense inner shifts in them, like i had in myself….pretty much started to step into my role as a healer and so much beautiful shit blossomed as a result of the commitment to authenticity. i know i’ve touched and changed peoples lives and its not because of me in a personal sense, it because because of the magic and POWER that lies within the authenticity we’re all capable of and meant to embody but taught to fear more than anything.

More reflections on ADHD, ableism, and a real life example of stigma/shaming that happened last month.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/adhd-brain-disorder-study_us_58af2326e4b060480e05c139?kwp_0=345868&kwp_4=1303323&kwp_1=578656

Thoughts on the latest ADHD studies which apparently prove that our issue is neurological:

I am, by far, the most “severe” case of Inattentive Attention Deficit Disorder I have ever known, and very likely the most extreme case you have ever interacted with in your life, although you can’t really tell on the surface. While they are often co-morbid, it’s not directly comparable to depression or anxiety, as those are primarily situational or trauma based: you’re not born depressed or anxious. I was born with measurable brain differences that are interpreted as evidence of an incurable disease in modern society. My differences make the basic capabilities of *adulthood* extraordinarily difficult on an ongoing basis. The effects don’t come in cycles, there is no ‘onset’, there are no episodes, no major or minor. According to the scientists and the doctors and the looks on certain people’s faces when your ADD decides to show itself like a perpetually reoccuring nip slip, you’re just broken. From the day you are born, you are broken. That is the paradigm, and many of us who face serious ADD feel like our fate is to feverishly tread water with deformed, weak, ‘too different from other people’ limbs, forever. (Stimulants do not work on everyone, are not available to everyone, and for some like myself, the costs outweigh the benefits. I like having a full range of emotions and I do not like random fits of agitation and rage, personally. Thats why I had to stop. Meds are not a one size fits all solution.)

People generally have no real idea what its like, how far reaching the effects are, and how maladapted we are for survival under late capitalism. As a black woman with the personal backstory I have, my efforts to survive and thrive are thwarted even more by my identity, my biography and my relatively low standing within most social hierarchies and power structures. Ancestry of slavery, segregation, poverty, abuse, addiction and dysfunction, no generational wealth, very little family support, a personal history of extreme trauma, working in an industry with an insanely high glass ceiling for women, and the list goes on. ADHD voices are so unheard and misunderstood in general, but black, poor female ones far more so. Black women with so called ‘mental illness’, living at the axes of multiple oppressions, are among the most unheard and disregarded voices there are in America. Are we broken? Or are the systems that drain our life force and invalidate our existence, themselves, broken?

On the one hand, studies like the one in the link above help people like me who struggle relentlessly, perpetually, with things modern adults are expected and generally able to do. They help because they convince the neurotypical population that we ‘really’ do have a ‘brain disease’ that is not our personal ‘fault’. Therefore, they combat stigma and make it so that my lived experience is less of a culturally invalidated, tragically misunderstood, interpersonally denied and stigmatized situation. However…they hurt too, because, at the end of the day, my very real neurobiological differences are only pathological/ abnormal in the context of a deeply unnatural, insane, programmed construct called modern society, in which neurotypical brains are the norm and the standard and, I must admit, less threatening to the way things are, which is why there is no diagnosis for that. ADD, for some including myself, means not being able to force ourselves to do things even with the risk of massive consequences. Many of us are motivated almost entirely by inspiration, desire and personal interest in a subject matter or an activity. Kind of like children. Free. Too free, too driven by what is within rather than by the hard, blunt edges of ‘reality’ that exist without. (Is that reality?) Survival, quite literally, does not fire up my engines, and I only recently accepted it and stopped hating myself for it in 2016. I have had to pay for it in too many ways to count. Fear doesn’t work very well to get my switch from off to on, which is why people like me HAVE to get a psychiatric label and drugs to change who we are, you can’t have a bunch of people running around who can’t figure out how to motivate themselves off of humanitys base survival instincts and modern conditioning! Fuck no. And dear God, if people started looking into the mirror of our inability to conform and realize how much they too, deep down, struggle to conform and live in this fake construct, shit would fall apart. We most defffffinitely cant have that. *Cue endless studies about our ‘broken brains’ and 10 million adderall prescriptions for ten year olds in America who cant pay attention to brainwashing at school for six hours a day*

A quote from the incredible mind of John Taylor Gatto is relevant here: “School is about learning to wait your turn, however long it takes to come, if ever. And how to submit with a show of enthusiasm to the judgment of strangers, even if they are wrong, even if your enthusiasm is phony.”
John Taylor Gatto

Back to my own experience. I am damn near incapable of submitting myself to boredom or routine, my brain tends to switch off when I see through something false and can’t give my energy to it, when someone is using words just to fill a void they mistakenly think exists outside of themselves, or when I just don’t care about something and do not see its relevance to my personal mission, even when I try really, really, really, really hard to stay focused. Every job, lost within months. Every single one. Multidimensional is a good word for my brain, I often feel like my consciousness is present beyond the physical levels of consensus reality. Sometimes I am outside of time, sometimes I am in a hyperfocused trance of no-time, sometimes I am deep in my own subconscious, sometimes I am in a whirlwind of other people’s thoughts and emotions, sometimes I am so present I cannot help but behave completely spontaneously. A few times, I have actually ‘left’ my physical body and my consciousness traveled to the past or the future (being an intuitive/claircognizant is part of this). Lots of ADD’ers have these gifts of expanded consciousness and are not naturally grounded into 3 dimensional reality because our role at a soul level is to be both in this reality while not being of it. Many of us are portals, bridges to the beyond, who are able to bring the spiritual down into the physical and merge them through the activities that light our brains on fire and put us so deep into hyperfocus we become unaware of our physical bodies, of time and space, of where we put the keys, of the fact that we forgot to pay the phone bill. My ADD brain gives me really awesome powers tbh, which the world needs badly right now. It’s sacred, but everything is inverted here in duality, so down here, we’re ‘sick’ and need to be fixed because we can’t keep most jobs without neuturing ourselves with therapy, stimulants and internalized shame.

I am terrible with things like money, turning my gifts into profit, and navigating the strange, fear based world of any capitalist industry at all. I can write my ass off, I was a child prodigy in a couple of ways, and last year I stumbled into leading an international collective/movement online among other things, but knowing how to monetize my mind and turn the contents of my soul into profit? It’s like trying to learn sanskrit from a braille textbook. I make sense in a village where man and nature live in harmony, where villagers do not have to learn how to ask if they can go pee in schools, or get office jobs, or pay rent to an owner of a piece of something that belongs to everyone, every month. I don’t make sense in the world as it is, and it doesn’t make any sense to me, but that is probably the most important reason why people like me desperately need to exist: to remind other adults that this shit isn’t really honoring their soul or working for them, either, even if they have forced themselves to function well within it and stake out a little place in this mess for themselves, thereby procuring a little piece of security and safety in a world gone mad. If everyone easily kept jobs and payed rent every month and effortlessly focused their attention on whatever we are ‘supposed’ to focus on, we’d be hurtling towards an Orwellian/Huxley’esque dystopia even faster than we already are. My *broken brain* has a forbidden, uncontrollable magic in it, and for that, I pay dearly on the physical plane. For that, and for my inability to tame it and get with the program, I suffer. Ideological warfare on the too wild, too free and therefore dangerous human spirit.

Living as someone like this is difficult in ways I’m not sure words can express. I once stayed with a man who was abusing me for months because I had no where else to live and between being abused by a sociopath and the way my brain works no matter how hard I tried, it was really, really hard to acquire enough money to get out. I can’t even sit and search for jobs on craiglist for more than fifteen minutes without getting completely distracted and having to yank myself back to the task at hand, over and over and over and over again (then attention fatigue sets in and I fall asleep from the strain midday.) I have lived on people’s floors surviving off bagels, I have relied on food banks, I have lived in a dirty, illegal loft with ten men, I have slept on the train, I have gone from couch to couch, I have been shamed so deeply for my struggle to survive and navigate NYC as an adult, I have been fired a million times and sometimes with harsh words (one boss told me I need an ‘interface’ to deal with reality, obviously equating my differences with a form of mental retardation, even though my IQ probably eclipses his and definitely most people’s, by a large margin.) My parents kicked me out onto the street because it took me longer than a month to get my shit together after taking medical leave from Wesleyan, although it was obvious I was clinically depressed and could barely eat/move/think about working. As far back as middle school, reports all reflect the same thing, that I have an incredible mind but I am just not good enough in the ways that it takes to succeed within institutions with strict expectations for how my brain should work, I am not living up to my potential, etc etc. Professors at Wesleyan loved me because I made their classes less boring by not riding their dicks and actually challenging their ideas, yet I just didn’t make it to graduation after more than three years of trying. The actual impact of being this way is SO FUCKING REAL and I want people to know that, for my sake and for the sake of millions who deal with this.

Now: a real life example of what it is like to face ableism and stigma and non-belief as someone with severe ADHD.

I’m going to bring up Neybuu again. Neybuu (apparently her real name is Renae or something) is a white woman, a music producer, who came out of nowhere to demean me last month in an extremely random and deeply ableist way. I run a rapidly growing global collective of women/nonbinary folks in the hopes of changing gender inequality in electronic music, and it is a great deal of work, which I explained two posts below in an essay about the situation. I am someone who is motivated by a desire to change how things are, not by a desire to thrive within them, although I try very hard to do both but tend to fail at the latter. Thriving within the old system/doing what I have to do to because ‘you just have to do it’, is insanely difficult for all the reasons I described above, and has never actually worked for me, ever. Not every adult can say that. I have never had financial security, ever in my life, childhood or adulthood. Not for longer than several months, even in college. Normal brains can keep a job, can scrape rent together, can devise a long term structured survival plan and stick to what it takes to make it happen. I taught myself how to read at three, but at 23 I was living on someone’s floor, hating my mad whirlwind of a mind and how it always seems to make me pay dearly for the ways in which I cannot change myself or adapt to the construct that is modern American life under late stage capitalism.

When I asked the group I run (SISTER) for help so I could possibly eat more and be a bit less malnourished while doing work, every day, for an incredibly unique and important movement in my industry meant to uplift and create space for women around the world who are marginalized in our field, more people than I thought would respond immediately responded with love and willingness to contribute to me not going so painfully without, like I am used to. I was so proud of myself for having gathered the courage to acknowledge and respect my differences and limitations, to ask for help after a year of genuinely hard work, for having the courage to reach out and ask people to acknowledge the value of what I am trying to do, outside of the context of a master/slave capitalist work arrangement. One of the members commented saying ‘we should definitely help you out, you do a lot for us’ and 20 people liked it in two hours. I was like wow, maybe this thing I pour so much time and energy into can help me not struggle so relentlessly like I have since forever.

And then, lo and behold: a white, presumably able bodied/neurotypical woman who had read my long, heartfelt, incredibly vulnerable post to the group I have nurtured from its early days decided that she had to step up and stop me from my apparent attempt to ‘capitalize off disenfranchished people’, ‘charge’ them to stay in the group and threaten people for money like a manipulative, dishonest person would do. She wanted me to realize that ‘real labors of love don’t get compensation’….(huh? She had clearly read my post about being in a financial emergency and losing weight, and wanted to block me from getting support to get out of that situation? Who does that?) She told me that she has been able to make money and survive without a normal job and that she could offer me suggestions on how to do that, and ended with offering to take over what I have built brick by brick while vowing not to ‘charge’ the members (which I never did and was never going to.) It was horrible, because it was a strangely aggressive personal attack on a black, intensely neurodivergent woman in a clearly vulnerable and painful position, based on complete absence of understanding of who I am, what my intentions were, my story, and what it means to ask for help within a community that knows you, cares about you and values your existence. I technically have a severe neurological disorder….why would anyone drag someone who was brave enough to admit to to that?

Ableism, and stigma, and people not believing you and blaming your struggle on your character or on personal shortcomings. I told my story so honestly, and a white woman came out of nowhere to attack my black ass for it and shame me for speaking out and asking for the support I truly do need and deserve. This is a real life example of ableism/neurotypical privilege in action.

She got angry after I deleted the attack so she put it on our public page within five seconds, to ‘get back at me’…..it was bizzare. If she wanted to help me, why didn’t she message me? Why attempt to shame and ‘call out’ and embarass me in front of other people? Why post on our public page, where there are hundreds of non-members, in the attempts to get attention for something that was apparently meant to be of personal help to me? I have since flipped my weave and gotten over it, (lol) but at the time, I hadn’t felt so angry in years. I was in absolute shock, and even more in shock when she posted it on her page, my name included, and messaged me to thank me for all the attention she was getting from the post….(!)….all because I asked if people would be willing to help me fight the real life effects of severe ADHD so I can continue to run our group and do good for others around the world.

The ableism in her narrative about me was astounding. If someone had cancer and had put love and energy into something meant to benefit others for an entire year, while suffering from the effects of her cancer, and she made a gofund me for help with hospital bills and posted it in her group, no one would come out of the woodwork and accuse her of trying to use and scam others. No one would demean her character and reduce her desire to survive to a baseless, manipulative scheme. No one would offer to replace her without having ever had a personal, one on one conversation with her. No one would respond to her in a way that completely wrote her cancer out of the equation and blamed her inability to pay her hospital bills on her own lack of making the right choices. No one would tell her “when I was sick, I payed my bills without asking people for money, so you should too, and I can give you suggestions on how to do that.” Her words reeked of really, really bad ableism and an intense disregard for my plight and thereby, the plight that all people diagnosed with this go through. ADHD, the severe kind like I have, is not a disease in my opinion, like I explained above, but its still a painfully real and huge difference which leads to the kind of inability to support oneself that I have faced for my entire adult life, to an extent that is absolutely anything but normal. I know we’re all paying our individual rent every month in this alienated, atomised capitalist society, but I believe in community and I believe that people should reach out to people who care for help more, to each other more instead of to institutions and writers of paychecks, that people should help each other more, emotionally, financially, however. You shouldn’t shame someone for struggling so long and so hard that they shoot down their pride and ask people to help them. You shouldn’t tell people their labor, their effort, their love, their energy, is worthless. You should not assume that someone you do not know has the same abilities as you do. That is stigma. That is shaming, that is harmful, that is ableism, that is really messed up, especially if it’s a white woman doing this to a black woman in America…..context.

I hope that new research that comes out helps people to realize what people like me go through, how we lack the abilities most adults take for granted and assume everyone has. We don’t. A lot of rich ADD’ers end up with life coaches, expensive life long medication, multiple therapies and all kinds of support, while lots of poor POC ones end up dead, homeless or locked up somewhere. The research is out there if you look. I hope that new research reduces stigma so that the cancer patient and the severe ADD’er are both looked at with love, understanding and kindness about their limitations. I hope this woman realizes one day that a white person attacking and shaming and lying about a black woman who is simply trying to survive and brave enough to ask for help from people she has helped, is extremely problematic and hateful especially given white supremacy and racism…..I hope she realizes that when I deleted her post, it was coming from a place of intelligent awareness of the defamation and barely hidden vitriol that came through so clearly in her original attack, which her friends somehow didn’t see the same way (they wanted me to think she was being ‘nice’ and trying to ‘help’….really? Please.) I might have an extreme brain difference, but I’m extremely intuitive and not stupid in the slightest. Whether they will admit to it or not, the energy emanating from her original words was condescending, cruel and unwarranted , and I will never sit here and act like it was not.

To everyone with ADHD or any inner difference defined and treated like a severe neurological disorder, I love you, and you deserve to survive!!! You do need more help than the average person. Your limitations are a mirror for others to look in and more easily admit their own. Your inability to survive as an individual unit forces you to rely on either your community, or on the state, and when you choose the latter, you make social reality a little less cutthroat and isolating because you are a reminder of how unnatural the way we live is. No, you are NOT equipped to survive this bullshit, but that doesn’t mean people should shame you or that you deserve to wither away. I believe you, I see you, I acknowledge you, I applaud you for rising above your struggle, or just admitting to it and taking up space in the world, as you are. I will do everything I can to help tell our story as I continue my creative career.

c

 

 

 

Mental Illness Series Part 3: Attention Deficit Disorder

oracl

The worst part about losing my job, yet again, was the look in my boss’ eyes.

He’d been trying, for a long time, to help, to give me something to do that would help me survive & allow me to focus on music. I showed up, once again, with no notepad or writing utensil. He had asked me over and over and over again to bring these things. I forgot. I forgot. I forgot again. He is upset now. I am not moving fast enough and my laptop is stalling. I feel his eyes on me. He exudes power and confidence and organization and productivity and industriousness. My opposite. Intimidating. I feel small. I feel as if he is looking at a disobedient five-year old. My imagination runs wild. He is sick of me. (Get out of here coral) I can’t focus. I can’t focus. I am starting…

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The Gathering of the Rainbow Tribe: New Age delusions and rude Awakenings

Sacred Space in Time

There are certain realities that must be addressed in order for the world to move forward as One. These realities have been created by the super-conscious agreement of large soul-groups comprised of smaller collectivities and individuals inhabiting this planet, engaged in a mutually beneficial karmic drama drawn out over many hundreds and thousands of years. The origins of this passion play are lost in mists of time, subject to multitudinous explications and storied retellings, but the ramifications of it remain with us.

The world we live in is an end result of the diffusion of the world’s people from one location upon the planet to many, according to both scientists and mythologists. According to American Indian lore, each group was given a charge relating to the 4 directions and other esoteric correspondences. Succinctly, the yellow race was sent East and given charge of wind and so became knowledgeable about all things having…

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In response to Neybuu Tablawalli:

This post is a direct response to accusations about me and an ensuing wall of hateful comments, thanks to a person named Neybuu Tablawalli posting about me/using my name, on their personal Facebook. This is the true story behind the public slandering and bullying I faced yesterday, not the false one that riled people up.

A few nights ago, I asked people in SISTER, the group I have dedicated myself to for the past year, to contribute, if they CAN, to a survival/compensation fund, due to the fact that it’s truly become a full time job and ALSO due to the fact that I deal with what society would label SEVERE cognitive disability/neurodivergence, which causes endless real life problems when it comes to securing a consistent living, this is something anyone can research. My situation isn’t a joke or a game, my original post was not a ruse to scam people for money or threaten anyone. I actually do have this problem. It is not normal for an adult. It’s real and there are thousands of people in the world like this with the same very, very real situation. I was never trying to hold this collective ransom for money. That was completely made up, and I have no idea why. I asked people to give if they could, what they could. Many members from around the world commented supportively, many asked for my Paypal or Venmo, within a day. Thats not a group of strangers I’m trying to steal from, those are obviously people who CARE about me and were willing to help because they understand the amount of work and love I put into this, not because they are scared I will take away the platform. I never said I’d leave if not paid. What I DID say is that if this doesn’t work out, I’m going to have to train someone else because at my age, I can no longer do this job if it is not helping me eat. I would NEVER get rid of Sister or threaten the members of my own group. That was genuinely, completely made up. I don’t know why. It has nothing to do with what I actually said. I deleted it and her immediately, before reposting her statement and asking who she was, because what she said to and about me was blatantly off base/inaccurate, and I was also not in an emotional space at the time to be political about it and leave it there. I’m human.

My struggle to survive and attempt to reach out for help, to people I have helped with what I do, is not to be shamed or made fun of or made out to be some kind of scam. It’s real as fuck, and people overwhelmingly responded empathetically and supportively to it. I asked for help if people CAN, not threatened to remove the group if people can’t. I didn’t even announce my paypal or venmo in the group, although MAD people asked for it. I don’t want people to send me all this money, I just want the work I do to help me survive because I don’t have any other options right now and I believe I shouldn’t remain in this situation if people care enough to help. So I figured, a bunch of people giving a tiny amount for a Patreon, a dollar to 3 dollars a month from those that are able, would help me make it through and ensure that I can keep doing this work. Other people get booked in SISTER far more than I do,tbh. It’s a real, global network that has indirectly lead to earnings and collaboration opportunities for many people. My efforts actually do seem to have real life value to other people, which is why so many members were so down to help, so quickly. But there was no mention of that, and the people commenting on her status also didn’t know that.

Also, labors of love shouldn’t be compensated? Why is that? Who is anyone to tell someone else that? People were more than willing to help and give, because I have helped and given a lot. Also…I am so much more than a ‘moderator’. There are several busy inboxes to take care of, a 1200 member group to administrate, several active social media platforms for promoting member’s work and events, constant presence in the group making connections between people and creating a positive supportive vibe, adding new members I meet in the world and online and helping them feel welcome and comfortable, helping people start their events in other cities, overseeing the development of things like logos, our website and merchandise, throwing the sister event in NY, speaking on Panels about us, creating and keeping track of resources like our Sisterbook Database, passing on information I find about opportunities, overseeing big projects like our upcoming Compilation (handling submissions, choosing songs/tracklist, finding engineering, artwork, and working on press + release events), working to create a showcase at a major festival for sisters to play at and hang out at, writing and updating things like decks, press kits and mission statement, doing interviews in press about the collective to get the word out about who we are, working on the actual organizational structure of SISTER so we can become a non profit with a board of directors, researching grants and sponsorship options in order to bring more resources into the group, starting conversations about various issues we face in this industry, planning an outreach to larger platforms in order to link Sister with a bigger entity, all of this in order to benefit more people around the world, all of this to widen the scope of this rapidly growing thing, which I didn’t even see coming. I do SO much. It’s crazy to read a hate status and so many comments about me trying to ‘monetize’ or ‘capitalize off people’ when I do all this for this group and for everyone in it, am simply trying to make a difference, and am only asking for help out of fucking desperation and true, real need. I just want to eat and live somewhere, and make it so that what I do for others actually helps me do that, since I actually struggle to feed and house myself to a degree and to an extent that the majority of neurotypical people my age cannot relate to, and to shame someone for that is fucked up.

If you commented on Neybuu ‘s status in support and we know each other, feel free to judge, unfriend or block me. But first, realize she actually did lie to people about the entire context of what I was asking for. When she came out of nowhere, I had just received an outpouring of love and support because people see and understand the amount of LABOR I put into SISTER and some were willing to put a tiny bit a month towards helping me keep something running which THEY benefit from. Why don’t I have the right to ask for a dime of compensation or support? Why should I have to stay in the fucked up position I’m in when clearly so many people around the world benefit from the space?  If it wasn’t truly a labor of love I would not have have been busting my ass for a year running it with not ONE mention of struggles to afford life. I reached out because I am backed into a fucking corner right now and in my original, misrepresented post, that was completely obvious. I need food, I need support, and I struggle intensely with money, I don’t mean in a casual way, like your average young adult. I mean I am fucking incapable of pulling in money consistently for basic survival and have ALWAYS been, for my entire adulthood. People with brains like mine, their family often has to support and rally around them. If not, they tend to be on disability, or else they must design alternative non traditional incomes for themselves. I have one sister to help me, who is also struggling. This person had people shaming someone who REALLY doesn’t deserve it at all. Everyone, deep down, wants to be able to do what they feel is a mission in their life, what their heart calls to them to do, and have that feed them. Everyone. I just had the guts to outright ask for support from the people who benefit from and care about what I do, and really try to make that happen.

She took my desire to create a less hopeless situation for myself, twisted it around, and had people who’ve never met me and don’t know me accusing me of trying to capitalize off others when I do nothing but give in there. When I’m just trying to help myself EAT and save towards getting my own place. I’m not trying to get money off people for fun or as a scheme, I’m trying to scrape together enough so I can run this group and help empower and connect people marginalized in this industry all around the world since this shit means the world to me, without worrying about losing weight or what will happen if my sisters landlord get sick of my presence. Neybuu and all the commenters don’t know what  I’ve been through trying to support myself. They have not the slightest idea.

Also in the OP, she was a little too ready to offer to take over the group in which case she would ‘vow not to charge people’, which I never said I would…meanwhile, she barely ever participated in this collective…. until now….. I don’t remember having seen her post in the group…. It makes no sense. This is not just a group of people chatting on a FB page, this is a large scale, multifaceted platform/network with a LOT of moving parts to it, so much of my intellectual and emotional labor has gone into creating what SISTER is.

To people who commented like “it’s a public group, she doesn’t have the right to post in there’ thats also blatantly not true….. It’s a private/secret one that I’ve run for a year, and I have personal relationships with a huge number of people in it. You jumped on a bandwagon based on something that was literally NOT true, to support your friend. I can totally understand why, friends support friends. The the way she presented it sounded bad so I can’t blame you at all. But I think people have a right to know what they were actually participating in, which was bullying based on misrepresentation of someone who in absolutely no way deserves what happened. I wasn’t going to post this but I’m not going to sit here and say nothing.

Coral Foxworth

its happening!!! (that one time i had the quintessential enlightenment experience)

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last night, something ancient in me stirred in its slumber, rose from its vaults, and came to complete awareness of what it is.

it laughed at the me that ever forgot. the ‘something’ is the Goddess.

shame died as knowing was born. fear melted as knowing crowned, the birth pangs of learning this lesson finally over…… knowing was reborn in me last night…..not ‘belief’….not thought….nothing of the mind…..just pure, unadulterated knowing…..that which we are violently conditioned out of by outer and inner patriarchs.

this morning, i woke up in love. not with me, not with my boyfriend, although both are true. literally IN love. i felt like a seed in the ground being nourished by the earth except im a human in the world being nourished by the earth. fuck how do i explain. i felt like i was ‘swimming’ in a vat of love, and that vat is called life, and everything that had ever not made sense just made sense.

idk.

im on to something. something that i sense has taken many, many lifetimes to culminate…….
new plateau. very new. quiet here. there is a calm here that is unknowable while asleep to the divine within you. im not ‘struggling’ against me, or against anything, anymore….its so lovely….. i feel like that girl in divergent who figured out ‘its not real’ while in the simulations. sometimes when i ‘slip’ a leg back down, I hear the roar of the former chaos that was my reality, that is the collective illusory reality. I know now that I can never quite go back to the illusion, I may trip and fall down but I seem to have found a ‘portal’ of sorts…a way out….a way back to knowing, to love…. Something has shifted forever.

this feels like initiation, graduation….its feels like now, once im fully on this new plateau, I get to spend the rest of my life cocreating heaven on earth like we were meant to in the beginning… ….feeling like i cracked some kind of code and life will never be the same.